The Ides of March
by Xelac
Summary: Chell thought everyone had forgotten, and it would be just another day. However, a visit to Aperture proves her wrong.


I continue my work in silence while I listen absentmindedly to my coworkers talk, gathered at a nearby desk. They were joking about what day it was, about how this was supposedly a day of bad luck due to it marking the anniversary of Julius Caesar's death. "Beware the Ides of March, guys!" they laugh. Of course, none of them really took it seriously, but I couldn't help but think about how ironic it was that out of all the days of the year, the one day that I could call my own had to be this one. I wasn't sure if it was even the correct date – that crazy AI probably just said it to upset me, everything she said seemed like it was just to upset me – but I had nothing else to go on.

My coworkers continue to laugh and joke around about it, and I think for moment about writing a note telling them what day it was for me. I knew that I had told them before, at least a week in advance, but while them forgetting it seemed pretty rude, begging for attention because of it seemed almost as bad to me for some reason. Maybe that was just because I didn't really like attention in the first place.

After work, I take the long way home so I have a little extra time to think. I feel like I should do something special. However, I couldn't think of anything. Cake was out of the question – while I had developed an aptitude for cooking, I also found that for some reason I didn't have much of a stomach for sweet things. I guess Aperture left a stigma on sweets for me.

An idea pops into my head, an idea so ridiculous I dismiss it immediately and try to think of something else. It's persistent, however, and refuses to leave my mind, and bullies out any alternative that tries to take its place. Soon I begin to feel that there couldn't be any alternative – not one that has any real meaning at least. I could sit at home all alone and pretend to be happy for the day, congratulate myself on surviving a year in civilization, or go visit an old friend who may or may not try to kill me. On a whim, and a prayer that things will not go horribly wrong, I set out to go see her.

My little car rumbles bumpily through the wheat field, much farther off the road than it was ever designed to go. Luckily no one was around when I pulled off the road and plowed straight into the wheat field, but I was worried that on the return trip I would not be so lucky. Heck, I was worried about there not being a return trip at all. I park the car next to an old metal shack and climb out, pausing for a moment to stare at the door and second guess my decision. However, the door, despite slamming shut the last time I saw it, was cracked open, almost like she was expecting me. That seems to make my decision for me, so I carefully open it and step inside.

There was a slight pause, then the lift began to descend. With no chance of escape, I began to try to calm myself down, convincing myself that I was not about to drown in neurotoxin. When the lift finally reaches the bottom, she turns to face me, her golden optic glittering.

"I told you not to come back," GLaDOS said, thankfully not filling the room with neurotoxin or even sounding angry, "And yet here you are. I had assumed that after almost exactly one year, you would either be dead or comfortably settled in to society. Either that, or in a mental hospital. Or did you escape said mental hospital? If that's the case, I must inform you that federal regulations require me to send you back there immediately."

I shake my head, hoping to convey that I was _not_ placed in a mental hospital. She seems to understand, turning away from me to face a monitor on the wall that displayed two robots solving a test chamber.

"Alright," she says with her back still to me, "Why did you come back here, then?"

I shrug, not sure what else to do.

"I suppose you can't tell me. I've forgotten what it's like to deal with someone who's mute. Shall we begin a game of charades, or do you have an easier and less humiliating form of communication?"

I did in fact bring my notebook for this occasion. I pull it out and show it to her.

"I see. That would make this easier," she said, her gaze once again fixed on me.

My fear of her killing me begins to dissolve. She seems so relaxed, not at all bothered by the presence of her former murderess. I can't help but to come a little closer as she again turns away from me to watch the robots test. I notice that they were the ones that were there when I woke up just before GLaDOS released me.

"Do you even have a particular reason for being here?" she asks without turning toward me. I shake my head in response, not wanting to tell her the real reason despite the fact that I brought my notebook in order to do so. I pause a moment to watch the monitor myself, wincing slightly when one of the robots, the one with the orange optic, is suddenly crushed by a crusher.

"Oh, don't worry about them," she chuckles, "They can easily be rebuilt." Just as she said that, the robot reappeared, and its partner, apparently happy to see it again, gives it a hug. She sighs with frustration. "Of all the terrible traits these two have picked up from humans, I am at _least_ glad that they aren't superstitious," she scoffs with a hint of sarcasm. "As a thought experiment, I decided to tell them about what humans think about the Ides of March to see if it affected their testing performance. Luckily, it has not."

I roll my eyes. Again with the Ides of March. How much do people really care about it, anyway? It would hurt less if they thought of it as just a normal day rather than go on about old superstitions.

"Speaking of which," GLaDOS says, turning back toward me. I hadn't realized how close I'd wandered to her; she almost had to look straight down to see me, and I craned my neck to look up at her. "It _is_ rather ironic that you chose to visit on this particular day."

I give her a confused look, not sure what she meant. Then a panel on the floor slid away, allowing a small table to rise up through the floor. Perched on top of it was a tiny Black Forest cake, small enough for a single person. I was so startled by it that I didn't notice the massive supercomputer lowering her head and leaning in close behind me.

"Happy Birthday, Cara Mia," she whispers.

**A/N: Looking back at old fanfiction, I can't help but notice that I described myself as a 14-year-old. I turn 17 today. Can you believe that? Anyway, I felt like writing something for my birthday, so this was something that I wrote in a few hours the night before. Not what I usually go with, but it seemed appropriate, somehow, if I were to share my birthday with Chell.**

**Also, I'd like to thank Taliax for writing that fanfiction about my life (no, it's not online anywhere). I enjoyed it immensely, though I'm not sure how it could be continued.**


End file.
